


lost and found

by asymmetric



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Lirry Fic Exchange, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2244069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asymmetric/pseuds/asymmetric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Did you ever think it would end like this?" Liam asked.</p>
<p>"Well," said Harry, "the baby is a surprise."</p>
<p>(babies, kidnappers, and emotional breakdowns, oh my)</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost and found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elliebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliebird/gifts).



> soooo! ace writes 1d fic! this is my first posted foray into 1d stuff so hopefully it is okay. i got loey as the person whose prompts i'd be writing for, which totally wasn't intimidating at all, since they totally didn't write my favourite niam fic of all time. whatever. no big deal.
> 
> so one of their prompts was this: 
> 
> Prompt 4: Lirry with a baby. Idec who’s baby – accidental baby acquisition on tour, au where Liam’s a single father and Harry’s his nanny, a Family Man AU where Harry wakes up in a universe where he and Liam are married with three kids – any kind of baby au and I am a happy camper.
> 
> my brain saw "accidental baby acquisition on tour" and wrote something that was probably not at all what they wanted! yay? sorry? enjoy?
> 
> this takes place during their current tour, with them stopping off during a break in the tour to do a photoshoot in the middle of nowhere. and thanks go to cyclogenesis for giving this a look over for me!

It was only a five minute walk to reach the edge of the cornfield. Liam had thought that voices would carry farther out here in the open, but he couldn't hear anyone at all by the time he stepped off the gravel road and started down the slope towards the towering stalks of corn. He paused just at the threshold of the field, close enough to reach the waxy looking leaves, close enough that he could see all the way down the row of corn, one long, green tunnel stretching out in front of him. None of his security was nearby, not Paddy, not anybody else, but he could still feel a weird tug in his chest holding him back, a voice that was somehow simultaneously Paul's and his mother's telling him "don't go too far, Liam."  
  
A pair of crows circled overhead, black spots against the melting pot of colour in the afternoon sky. Liam watched them spin above him for a long moment, before his neck started to hurt and he had to look away. He thought he could remember reading something about crows, that they were scavengers, that they hovered over dead things. He wondered what it meant that they were above him, if it meant anything at all. Perhaps they were a different bird entirely and he'd gotten everything wrong.  
  
It had only been four years, and yet somehow he'd forgotten how to be alone: it felt strange to be outside without people all around, stranger still to not have one of the boys at his side. He couldn't tell whether he liked it or not, whether the silence was freeing or frightening. In any event, it didn't matter. He was less than a mile away from the photoshoot; he knew if he turned around he would still be able to see the roof of the barn that served as their setting. He was separated from everyone else only by trees and a long stretch of dusty road. No one, he thought grumpily, would have let him walk down this way if they thought he was in any danger of getting lost or hurt. Wouldn't do to lose one fifth of One Direction in the middle of nowhere.  
  
Liam sat down heavily on the grass, still staring into the corn. He should have waited to go exploring. This would have been much funner with Louis, but Louis was still busy doing his solo part of the photoshoot. Liam had finished his ages ago, and something had driven him away from everyone else. He'd thought he wanted solitude, wanted space to figure out some of the shit tumbling around his head.  
  
The solitude wasn't helping. But he was too tired now to go back, his energy pulled from him by the hands of the warm sunlight reaching down.  
  
"Liam!"  
  
Something in Liam's chest leaped uncontrollably at the familiar voice and he turned to see Harry bustling towards him along the line of the cornfield, completely ignoring the perfectly good road. A mix of dread and suicidal anticipation starting churning in his stomach. He couldn't help being happy to see Harry even though Harry was the reason for a lot of the shit in his head; Harry sitting closer to him with every week, clinging to him at the photoshoot, whispering "you look so fit, Liam" in his ear.  
  
"Hey," Liam called, shading his eyes with a hand. Harry was holding something, a strange, oblong shape wrapped in some sort of pink blanket. "What've you got there, mate?"  
  
Harry skidded to a stop beside him, flushed and grinning. The stylist for this photoshoot had teased his hair up until it was all poofy and curly, and the sun glowed around it like he was one of those angelic cherubs in old fashioned paintings, halo and all.  
  
"I found a baby!" Harry said excitedly.  
  
Liam squinted. The sun was definitely going to his head.  
  
"What?" he said.  
  
Harry squatted down next to him and carefully shifted the bundle in his arms until Liam could see a tiny, pudgy cheeked face, two wide eyes staring up at him. It was, unquestionably, a baby.  
  
"Oh," Liam said, comprehension dawning. "Did you walk off with one of the photoshoot people's kids? Harry, you should probably take her back, her mum probably wouldn't want her taken this far away."  
  
Harry laughed, as if Liam was the one being silly, which was ridiculous, since Liam wasn't the one who had apparently abducted someone's kid.  
  
"No!" he said. "She's not someone from the photoshoot's baby! I told you I found her! She was just sitting like this by the side of the road under that tree!"  
  
He pointed at a giant tree about a hundred feet away, spreading shade over the road. Liam blinked at the tree and then looked back at Harry, who was beaming down at the baby.  
  
"What," Liam said.  
  
A tiny fist punched up out of the folds of the blanket, fingers uncurling to reach for Harry's face. Harry's mouth dropped open in absolute glee and he made some sort of cooing noise at the baby, who gurgled back in kind. They clearly spoke the same language.  
  
"What?" Liam repeated. His mind was starting to reboot and he felt a directionless panic curl up from his stomach.  
  
"Isn't she cute?" Harry said. He rubbed his nose against the baby's and the baby laughed. It was incredibly adorable, and Liam squashed down that thought the second it appeared in his mind.  
  
"You found her under a tree?" Liam said. He was trying not to shout, for the sake of the baby, and his voice sounded like it was being pushed through a strainer, coming out thin and broken. "Like, she was abandoned?"  
  
Harry looked up, and a small frown appeared on his face. "I guess so. There was nothing with her, like a note or anything. Just the blanket and her. She must not have been there long, because she was asleep when I found her, and she's pretty happy. Aren't you, baby, aren't you happy?" The last bit was to the baby, in a cheery little voice that Liam definitely did not find cute.  
  
"Harry, if you found a baby, someone must have left her there!" Liam hissed. "We need to tell someone or do something, or find her parents—what if she was kidnapped by baby snatchers or something and then left there? Maybe her parents are super worried!"  
  
"Baby snatchers?" Harry snorted, but Liam was already lurching to his feet, lightheaded and swaying slightly. He marched away from Harry, down the road to the tree Harry had been pointing at. There was nothing there beneath it except a squashed patch of grass where the baby must have been lying; no baby carriage, no letter of explanation, nothing.  
  
"See?" Harry said from behind him. He had followed Liam."I told you there was nothing there."  
  
"How are you so calm?" Liam asked, whirling on him. "This is about a living, breathing baby and you're acting like you found a toy or something!"  
  
"Hey," Harry said, truly irritated for the first time. Liam was glad to see it; he hated being alone in his anger. "I know this is important, okay, I was just on way to find you because you'd gone off and disappeared, and when I saw her, I thought, Liam will know what to do."  
  
"Oh," Liam said. His face felt a bit hot from the sun and from getting upset, and Harry was looking at him all serious and intent. Harry always looked at people like they were the centre of the world when he was talking to them, and Liam had never quite figured out how to deal with that.  
  
Harry cracked a small smile and rubbed a big palm over the baby's back, patting her absentmindedly.  
  
"Because you're Daddy Direction."  
  
Liam groaned and rolled his eyes, turning back to the tree to hide his own, automatic grin.  
  
"Don't bring that back, come on," he said.  
  
The baby chose that moment to let out a squeal of glee and Harry laughed, bouncing her slightly in the cradle of his arms.  
  
"See, Evie thinks it's funny," he said.  
  
"Evie?" Liam said slowly. A muscle in his hand jumped and he realized distantly that both of his hands were clenched in fists at his sides.  
  
Harry at least had the grace to look embarrassed.  
  
"I just thought we could call her that until we found her parents. She looks like an Evie, doesn't she?"  
  
"She's not a dog, Harry, oh my god!"  
  
"I know! She's a little person, and she deserves to have a name!"  
  
The baby clearly didn't like the tone of their voices, because she was starting to fuss slightly, her little fists waving about in the air. Liam panicked for a second, worried that she would start bawling completely, but it took only a minute or two of Harry rocking her and spinning slowly on the spot for her to settle down again, hands resting curled up on the top of her bundle of blankets. Liam's own hands started to loosen at his sides as he watched the two of them; Harry looked completely absorbed, intent on the baby like she was his mission, like he'd throw himself off a cliff to make her happy.  
  
"It doesn't really matter what you call her, I guess," Liam found himself saying. "As long as we figure out what to do about her."  
  
"We're going to have to take care of her, obviously," Harry said.  
  
It burst into Liam's head in technicolour: Harry in a kitchen looked mussed and sleepy with a ratty t-shirt on and some ridiculous slippers, bending over a high chair with Evie in it and spooning baby food into her mouth. Liam entering the room in a bathrobe and walking over to the pair of them, a mug of coffee in each hand. Setting them down on the table as Harry looked up with a smile and leaning in to greet him with a kiss.  
  
It felt like getting punched in the gut, all the air driven out of him in one moment. And he knew, he knew that couldn't have been what Harry meant, but there was longing welling up in him anyway, demanding to be felt, even though he'd come out to this cornfield in the first place to escape it.  
  
"Until the parents come back," Harry said. He was looking at Liam funny; knowing Liam's luck, he had probably gone white and terrified, or maybe a bit sickly looking. He felt like he could be sick, here under the sun, watching Harry be adorable with a baby.  
  
"Maybe we should just take her back to the photoshoot," Liam said, getting himself under control. "Give her to Lou. She probably has some baby stuff still even though Lux is a little older now. She'd know what to do more than us."  
  
"We'll do that if she starts getting hungry or upset," Harry said, plopping down on the ground underneath the tree and settling the baby in his lap. "Right now, I think we should stay near where we found her."  
  
Liam hovered awkwardly above Harry, staring down at him. Harry kept saying "we" as if it meant something, as if Liam was part of this, but he felt completely useless, uncertain and stiff where Harry was flexible and spontaneous. They would be a terrible fit, the two of them, and if he could only get that through his head he was sure he could get over it. He should really just leave now, go find someone from the photoshoot, Paul, maybe, and bring them back here to Harry so they could figure out what to do.  
  
Harry looked up and patted the ground next to him. Liam sat down.  
  
Harry scooted closer to him and shifted the baby until she was propped up on both of their legs where their knees were touching, Harry's hand cradling the back of her head.  
  
"Isn't she cute?" he said in a soft, lovestruck voice.  
  
Liam tore his eyes away from Harry's face before he said something stupid like "you're cute" and looked down at the baby. She actually was frightfully cute. Liam had always been weak for cute babies, and she had chubby cheeks and little wisps of blond hair at the crown of her head and big, big eyes, and she was blessedly silent and well-behaved.  
  
"Hi," Liam said softly, giving a little finger wave.  
  
The baby squealed and clapped her hands, smiling so big that her huge cheeks almost pushed her eyes out of sight. Liam's heart melted.  
  
"She likes you," Harry said. His voice was close to Liam's ear, and Liam could feel the heat of him where he was leaning in.  
  
"She's a sweetheart," Liam said, lowering his hand to let the baby grab at his fingers. Her hands were so tiny, so small compared to his, and he could feel himself grinning fondly. "Why would anyone abandon her?"  
  
"She probably wasn't abandoned. There was probably some sort of mistake," Harry said wisely. "I mean, there's no one around for miles but us and no one lives out here—I think—so someone will figure out she's missing and come to find her soon. And until then Evie can stay with us."  
  
"You shouldn't call her that," Liam said. The baby was pulling his finger down towards her mouth so she could chew on it. He let her. "You're just gonna get attached, okay?"  
  
"What's wrong with getting attached?" Harry asked.  
  
"Because she's not ours."  
  
Liam had meant to say "yours". It felt horribly significant that he had messed up and included himself, like he had dropped all of his cards and revealed his entire hand in one stupid moment. Harry stilled beside him, his shoulder pressing against Liam's, and Liam wanted to shrink into the ground and disappear.  
  
"We could pretend she is," Harry said, and even though his voice was quieter than before, there didn't seem to be any weight to his words, any sign that he knew what Liam was struggling with. "Pretend that we're her parents."  
  
Harry bent his head closer to the baby and his hair brushed up against Liam's chin, strangely crisp and smelling like chemicals from the hairspray the stylists had used. The fact that Liam still wanted to press his face into Harry's hair was incredibly depressing.  
  
"What do you think about that, Evie?" Harry said in a sing song voice. The baby turned her head towards the sound of his voice and let Liam's finger slip out of her suddenly slack mouth, gooey spit coating it up to the first joint. "We could be your dads."  
  
"Harry," Liam said, but he couldn't think of anything to follow it up with, could only stare at the side of Harry's stupidly serene face and wonder if Harry really was this dumb or if he was just messing with Liam.  
  
"If we were," Harry said, looking up at Liam suddenly. "Would you want to be Dad, or Papa? I assume it would get too confusing if we were both called Dad."  
  
There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, even though he looked serious, and it hit Liam all at once that he didn't understand Harry at all, didn't know what he was thinking now or whether he knew how Liam thought he might feel. It probably didn't mean anything, not the way Harry was acting now or the way he'd been the past few weeks. The fact that Harry kept insisting on sitting next to him, kept messing with him onstage, kept cuddling up to Liam anytime he sat down or lay down anywhere didn't mean that Harry felt the same. Harry collected people without even trying, without even putting in any effort. And it wasn't like he didn't care about them, but he could forget people sometimes, in the rush of meeting a new person or just in the crowd of people who adored him. Liam had seen it happen, and he imagined that there could be nothing worse than feeling what it was like to have Harry's full attention, and then lose that. You can't trust it, he reminded himself. You can't trust that any of it means anything.  
  
"Liam?" Harry said, prompting him for an answer.  
  
"It doesn't matter, does it," Liam said finally. "We're not her dads and shes someone else's baby and the two of us are never gonna be someone's parents, like, together, so it doesn't matter, and—"  
  
He cut off, squinting past Harry's shoulder down the dirt road. He thought he could see something in the distance, two small black shapes shifting at the horizon.  
  
"Never?" Harry said. From the corner of his eye, Liam could see that Harry had lowered his head, gazing down at the baby. "Is that really what you—"  
  
"Harry, there's people there," Liam said, knocking their knees together and pointing past Harry. The shapes had started to form a familiar silhouette as they grew closer, burly shoulders and heads and arms. Two men, walking up the lane, still too far for Liam to make out their faces.  
  
"What, like we shouldn't talk about this now because there might be people?" Harry said, and he sounded—kind of angry, though Liam had no idea why.  
  
"No, Harry, there's people," he said, jabbing with his pointer finger for emphasis. "As in people who might be here for Evie."  
  
Harry's face cleared and he turned his head, following the direction of Liam's finger.  
  
"Them?" he said. "Should we wave or something so they know we're over here?"  
  
He didn't sound too enthusiastic about it, hitching the baby up in his arms and cradling her protectively against his chest. Liam squinted at the approaching figures, his eyes sweeping over the unfamiliar silhouettes. It was two burly guys, he could tell now, dressed in black. He still couldn't see their faces, but everything about them seemed unfamiliar, from the basic outlines of them to the way they walked. They weren't wearing the bright orange vests that all of the security men had been wearing and he couldn't see the glint of a name badge anywhere.  
  
"Maybe not," Liam said slowly.  
  
"Wait a second," Harry said. When he turned back to face Liam, his eyes were bright, his expression jarringly pleased in the face of Liam's sudden wariness. "You called her Evie."  
  
"What?" Liam said distractedly. There was a feeling of unease creeping up his spine and he started to stand slowly, trying not to move fast enough to catch the eye. Where they were under the tree was probably shadowy enough that the men wouldn't have seen them yet, but that possibility grew smaller and smaller the closer they got. "Maybe we should move."  
  
"Why?" said Harry, wobbling his way to his feet with Evie in his arms.  
  
"They don't look familiar at all," Liam said. "I don't remember seeing them at the photoshoot, and they look scary and what if they're baby snatchers?"  
  
Harry didn't laugh at him this time, much to Liam's surprise. He squinted into the distance, half turned to look behind him, long body twisted like a blade of grass in a breeze. He stood there for a few seconds, clearly sizing the men up, and then abruptly turned back to Liam.  
  
"Go!" he hissed, waving his free hand. "Go, go, quick, before they see us!"  
  
Liam didn't question him; he turned and scurried behind the tree, adrenaline shooting through his body. The edge of the cornfield loomed up in his vision, only fifty feet of sun-baked grass away and Liam made a beeline for it, Harry following. He felt unbearably exposed for the seconds it took them to reach the corn, sure that voices would start yelling, that loud, hurried footsteps would start approaching, but he could hear nothing other than Harry's constant murmuring behind him: "It's okay, baby, s'alright, we're just going on a little trip! A little adventure! Please don't cry, please don't cry."  
  
Liam pushed aside the first barrier of scratchy green leaves and plunged into the cornfield. He barely had to duck once he was inside, the corn tall enough that the leaves at the very top formed a roof over his head. Two steps in, he remembered that Harry was carrying a baby and turned to hold back the leaves for him so he could step into the shelter of the field as well.  
  
"Thanks," Harry panted, shuffling carefully into the circle of Liam's arms, both hands holding the baby to his chest so she didn't get scratched. When he straightened up, he was so close that Liam could barely breathe, his face inches away, Liam's hands still braced on either side of him to hold back the corn. Liam stepped back quickly, ducking his head so he didn't have to see the bright flicker of Harry's eyes watching him.  
  
"We're barely in," he said, backing up down the row. "We should go in a little further, just so they definitely can't see us."  
  
"What if we get lost?" Harry said plaintively, stumbling after him.  
  
"As long as we stay in this row, how could we get lost?"  
  
The shadows were green and scattered all along the narrow path, only slivers of yellow sunlight making it through to stripe the ground. The earth beneath them was uneven; Harry almost tripped about three seconds after they started moving again, and Liam felt a tug on the back of his shirt, knew somehow that Harry was holding onto him for balance. They were about fifteen feet into the cornfield and Liam slowed to a halt, Harry crowded up behind him.  
  
"This is far enough, right?" Harry said. "Only I think I might fall if we go any further and I don't want to hurt Evie. Rocks and stuff."  
  
"Proper field shouldn't have rocks in it," Liam said wildly, as if he knew anything about agriculture. He mostly just wanted to stop thinking about Harry's breath on his neck. They were only in the fourth row, and although he felt like they were pretty sheltered, he could still see the road through the leaves. What he couldn't see was the men.  
  
"Corn looks like it's growing fine to me," Harry said back.  
  
"Shhh," Liam said, flapping a hand backwards. It hit Harry's thigh, his knuckles grazing denim. "Where did those guys go?"  
  
"Maybe they're by the tree," Harry suggested. "Looking for Evie."  
  
They peered through the corn down the dirt road, to the tree where they had found the little girl in Harry's arms.  
  
"No," Harry said after a minute. "No, I see them, they're on the other side of the road." The men had been out of sight because they were behind a lonely, unused telephone pole, but now they were striding past it and the tree at the same time, without even glancing over at the place where Evie had been left.  
  
"That's weird," Harry said. "If they're looking for Evie, why wouldn't they know where she had been put?"  
  
Liam had a horrible feeling that he had gotten something completely wrong.  
  
"And why would babysnatchers snatch a baby," Liam said slowly, "and then leave her under a tree and come back later for her?"  
  
He and Harry turned to look at each other, Harry's hand still gripping onto the hem of his shirt. Evie gurgled happily.  
  
"What if they're not here to kidnap a baby?" Harry said breathlessly. "What if they're here for us?"  
  
"What?" Liam said. "No." He glanced back at the road. The men were getting nearer: one of them was bald and bearded and the other one looked disturbingly normal in a very serial killery way. "Oh god, you're right."  
  
It made a horrible kind of sense. They were rarely alone, but he and Harry had wandered off because they thought it was safe. They'd had to keep this photoshoot quiet since they wouldn't have very much security out in the middle of nowhere, and if someone wanted to make off with one of them, there was a frightful amount of corn to hide in. And lots of deserted buildings. And fresh dirt to potentially bury their corpses in.  
  
"We're going to die," Liam squeaked. "Quick, crouch down, maybe it'll make it harder for them to see us."  
  
It took Harry a long moment to wobble to the ground, as he was still holding a baby. His knee pressed into Liam's thigh, and Liam placed a hand on his back to steady him automatically.  
  
They sat there for a moment, staring out through the corn at the figures, who were probably less than fifty feet away now.  
  
"Did you ever think it would end like this?" Liam asked.  
  
"Well," said Harry, "the baby is a surprise."  
  
Liam hadn't forgotten Evie, because finding a baby in the middle of nowhere wasn't the sort of thing you forget, even when you suspect that you're about to be kidnapped. But she'd been so quiet that he hadn't thought of her for a minute, and he looked over at the bundle of cloth, expecting to see her looking happy and placid as always. Evie did not seem to have appreciated all the moving around though, because when Harry pulled her away from his chest to rest her on his knees, Liam could see that her face was pulled into a massive pout.  
  
"Hey!" he whispered cheerfully, leaning into Harry's space to stick his face right above the baby. "Hey, Evie, hey, darling. How are you doing? You okay? You alright?"  
  
Evie looked only marginally less likely to burst into loud, upset wails. But her eyes were fixed on Liam now, one of her fists shoved in her mouth, like she was ready to hold off on crying if he could prove entertaining enough.  
  
"We're just on a little adventure," Liam sing-songed. "Just like Harry said, hmm? Here, love, you want to chew on my hand again instead of yours? I'm pretty tough, it won't hurt me."  
  
He presented his finger for inspection and after a moment of staring up at him, Evie pulled her own fist out of her mouth and grabbed onto his finger, tugging it to her mouth and gnawing on the side.  
  
"Excellent choice," said Harry. "Liam's quite tasty, isn't he, baby?"  
  
Liam was pretty sure that there was something wrong with him if he found those words arousing even in Harry's "I'm talking to a baby or fluffy animal" voice.  
  
"If she starts crying, we're fucked," Liam said cheerfully, still smiling down at the baby.  
  
"Don't swear in front of a baby!" Harry said, appalled in that drawling way of his.  
  
"She's like six months old or something, she's not gonna understand it," Liam hissed back. "Besides, be quiet. Kidnappers, remember?"  
  
The men were close enough now that Liam could hear the rumble of their voices, although the actual words were still lost in the space between them. They were probably talking about how best to collect their ransom money, Liam figured. Harry remained quiet for about five seconds before speaking again.  
  
"You've called her Evie twice now," he whispered. "I think you do like the idea of you and me as parents, you just don't want to admit it."  
  
"Or maybe it's just 'cause you keep calling her that," Liam said, flustered. "So the name is in my head." The two men were about fifteen feet away from the edge of the cornfield, and they looked even taller and more imposing when Liam was looking up at them from his crouched position of the ground.  
  
"Why are you insistent on denying this stuff?" Harry asked. "We'd make good parents together okay, I'm not saying now, I'm just saying, leave options open for the future—"  
  
There was still a little smile on Harry's face, and maybe he was just harping on about this as a joke, to distract them from the fact that they might be kidnapped in about two minutes and there was no way they could fight off two men while carrying a baby, but Liam was abruptly angry. Angry that Harry kept bringing this up so innocently, as if he didn't know what he sounded like he was offering. Liam didn't like being made fun of, and it was hard to see how Harry could still mean this all innocently.  
  
"Why are you doing this, Harry?" he said, voice quiet and even. He stared down at the baby's face, stroking a finger over her forehead so he didn't have to meet Harry's eyes. "Why do you keep teasing me like this, you—you have to know how I feel, you can't not know."  
  
Harry was still beside him, and Liam had to hold himself in place with all the strength in his body to keep himself from bolting away, running off through the corn until he was far away and didn't have to deal with finally telling Harry, finally saying it.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Harry exclaimed, and—shit, his voice wasn't low anymore, it was loud, cutting through the quiet air. Liam glanced up and saw the men at the edge of the cornfield startle and look around for the source of the voice.  
  
Well, he thought crazily, at least if we die, I told him. He looked over at Harry, eyes wide. Harry opened his mouth, and—  
  
"Liam!"  
  
It wasn't Harry who spoke.  
  
The bald man was standing on the road, facing the cornfield, hands on his hips.  
  
"Harry!" he bellowed. "You lads out here? They need you back at the photoshoot now!"  
  
"Oh," Harry said slowly. "That's Ed. I didn't recognize him before." He carefully passed the baby to Liam, who fumbled for a minute getting his finger out of her mouth so he could wrap his arms more securely around her. Harry stood up, sticking his arms out above the corn. "We're just in here, Ed! Be out in a minute!"  
  
"Ed?" Liam said in disbelief, getting to his feet as well. His heart was still hammering, and he couldn't quite catch up to the knowledge that a) they weren't in danger and b) Harry knew these guys and they had hidden from them for no reason. Evie made a little irritated grumble noise, her breath hitching wetly in her throat, and Liam knew exactly how she felt.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, and at least he sounded a bit sheepish. "The other one is Stan. I don't think the rest of you met 'em, but they are the stylist's brothers? They volunteered as security so I don't think they have the official outfits?"  
  
Harry shrugged, and turned to make his way down the row and out of the cornfield. Liam stared blindly at the shift of his shoulders under his shirt and stumbled after him, still clutching at Evie. The sun was hot and disorienting on his face when he stepped out from the field, and he paused there, leaves still brushing his back, his cheeks burning and a headache brewing behind his eyes. Harry knew how he felt now. Harry knew.  
  
Harry took the baby from Liam's arms and proceeded to explain her existence to the security guards who were definitely not kidnappers and who looked shockingly normal up close.  
  
"What do you mean you found a baby under a tree?" Stan—or Ed, Liam really wasn't sure who was who—said.  
  
Harry laughed and said something in reply that Liam didn't catch. He was farther ahead of Liam, already heading back down the road towards the photoshoot, baby in hand, the security guards walking alongside him. Liam stared down at his feet and followed at a distance, feeling like he was completely unnecessary to everything that had happened that day, to the madcap adventure Harry was likely describing.  
  
If Harry looked back at him at all while he talked, Liam didn't see, because he kept his gaze firmly on the ground.  
  
****  
  
Evie's real name was Emma.  
  
Apparently she was the daughter of one of the camerawomen, and the last the mother had seen of her was that she was sleeping safely in her stroller in the makeup trailer. No one knew how she had come to be under that tree, and the mother grew pale-faced and shaky when Harry handed Evie—Emma—over and explained. They still had to shoot all of Niall's stuff still, and after ten minutes of the mum rocking her baby and apologizing to her for not knowing where she was, Harry offered to watch her so the mum could get back to her job. It took another few minutes to convince her that Harry wouldn't leave her sight with the baby and that it would be fine, but she eventually handed Emma to him.  
  
"Well, you've taken better care of her today than I have," she said with a watery laugh. Liam had been pretty much invisible the entire time this conversation had been happening, hovering off behind Harry's left shoulder, so he was thrown when she turned and met his eyes. "You too. Thank you, both of you."  
  
And that was that. Harry took care of the baby, smiling and playing with her by the side of the barn Niall was posing up against, trying to get the baby to pull faces at Niall to mess him up, and Liam stood over by the tour bus and watched him. Eventually, he got sick of how pathetic he was and turned, forcing himself to climb up into the tour bus and shut the door.  
  
It was dark and cool in there; everyone else was outside, having fun or working, and he sank down onto one of the padded benches in the front lounge. The curtains were pulled over the windows, light showing through in tiny, hazy speckles, not quite strong enough to push through the fabric and dot the floor. Liam felt like he was drifting. It felt like there was something swelling in his throat, making it hard to draw in breath. He worked his jaw, popping it in and out of place as if he could make his stupid thoughts slot back where they were supposed to go, as if he could take back saying, "You have to know how I feel.”  
  
Harry would make a good dad, he thought, closing his eyes against the bitterness of the thought. When had he fallen in love with Harry? He should have noticed, it should have been something he noticed, not something he mistook for a useless crush and pushed to the back of his mind, where it took hold and spread through him like a disease. He thought about Harry smiling down at Evie—Evie, the name Harry gave her, the one he was so pleased to hear Liam say—and he dropped his face into his hands.  
  
There was a click and a creak, and Liam looked up sharply to see Harry standing in the doorway of the bus, one foot up on the stair, the light from outside outlining him in gold. Neither of them moved for a moment, and then Harry stepped inside fully, pulling the door shut behind him.  
  
"Where's the baby?" Liam asked. It came out slightly hoarse, and he cleared his throat, sitting back against the cushions and trying not to look like he was having a crisis.  
  
"They're all taking a break to reset some of the lights," Harry said. "The mum is with her until they start up again."  
  
Liam nodded.  
  
"Funny, isn't it?" Harry said, but he wasn't really smiling. "I got the name so close. Same starting letter, same number of letters." He laughed, and it was a humourless sound, nothing like Liam had ever heard from him. "Maybe I'm psychic."  
  
He was staring at Liam, and Liam couldn't look away. The cushion under his back felt like rock, like he was rock and was carved into this seat.  
  
"I guess I'm not though," Harry said heavily, after a long moment of silence. "Then I would've known that you had it all wrong."  
  
Panic shot through Liam and ripped him from the bench; he lurched to his feet and starting heading towards the bunks, saying, "Sorry, mate, I think I'm just gonna have a little lie-down now actually, I'm a bit tired," all fast and clumsy like if he kept talking then Harry would shut up.  
  
Harry didn't.  
  
"I thought we were on the same page."  
  
Liam paused, hand braced against the doorframe, staring off down the narrow hallway between their bunks.  
  
"I thought we both knew what was going on," Harry continued, and his voice was closer now. "I thought it was a bit of a game, that we were both just trying to see who would break and go for it first."  
  
There was a soft touch at his hip, a hand flattening against his skin where his shirt had ridden up, and Liam turned helplessly, until he could face Harry.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked. Harry was so close, his body near enough that Liam could actually feel the warmth bleeding off of him.  
  
Harry's hand slid up slowly, curving around to the small of his back, and Liam was urged forward, arching into the touch. Harry's eyes were following his face, dark and open and unreadable and Liam felt that desperate surge of feeling in his throat again, choking him with the desire to just finally understand Harry.  
  
There was too little space between them, especially when Harry dipped forward, resting his forehead against Liam's. His hair was still crisp with product, crackling against Liam's skin, and Liam's eyes felt heavy under the weight of Harry's gaze, wanting to drift shut and hide. His mouth felt hot, and he licked his lips nervously.  
  
"What do you think I mean?" Harry breathed, and Liam could feel the words on his skin. His eyes fell shut, anticipatory, and he blinked them open again instantly, staring at Harry's shadowy face. He couldn't assume. He couldn't trust it.  
  
"I—" he said, weakly. Harry's mouth was right there, and it was dark all around them, so that Harry was the only thing he could see. Harry's nose pressed against his own, rubbing across and then against his cheek, his face tipping slowly. "I don't, I—" And then he couldn't speak anymore because Harry's mouth was over his, swallowing his words.  
  
Liam let his eyes stay closed. His heart was beating double time in his chest and Harry was kissing him achingly slow, lips parting and dragging over Liam's, soft and consuming at the same time. Harry's free hand found its way to Liam's cheek, holding him in place like he was scared Liam would try to run, and one of Liam's hands came up without his permission and wrapped around Harry's wrist, clinging on. His legs felt shaky and all he could hear was the sounds of them touching, the sounds of their breath, the sounds Harry made in the back of his throat, small, happy hums like he was getting something he'd been wanting for a very long time.  
  
When Harry went to pull away, Liam chased after his mouth, eyes still squeezed shut. If he opened them, this would end, and he didn't know what he would do. Harry let him, and Liam stole a few more kisses, pressing hard and earnest.  
  
"Liam," Harry whispered, his lips smudging Liam's kisses, and Liam leaned forward, trying to steal his own name right out of Harry's mouth. "Liam, wait."  
  
"Don't wanna," Liam said, small and childish, and he hated that, that he sounded like that here with Harry pressed against him like he's been wanting. He let go of Harry's wrist and wrapped both hands around Harry's hips, fingers digging in and roughing up against the fabric of his shirt.  
  
Harry ducked his head away and Liam stopped, breathing hard.  
  
"We've established that I'm not psychic, alright?" Harry said, and he sounded just as out of breath as Liam felt. "I need you to tell me this time, because games don't work for us."  
  
"Tell you what?" said Liam. He felt reckless. Nothing he said mattered now, because Harry had kissed him. "Tell you that I want you? You know that. That I've wanted you for months?"  
  
"That you want this," Harry said, raising his head and meeting Liam's eyes. "You and me."  
  
Even in the darkness Liam could see the flush on Harry's cheeks, the bright flash of his eyes. He thought about watching Harry smile at a baby and picturing them in a kitchen, all proper domestic. The desperation of moments ago, of earlier that day, seemed so distant now, now that everything was suddenly within his grasp.  
  
"Of course I do," he said.  
  
Harry grinned, sudden and brilliant, and he fell forward into Liam, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Liam hugged back, slightly bemused, a small fire of happiness starting to burn its way up through his chest. Harry wanted him.  
  
"We're going to be great," Harry said into his ear. "You'll see, it'll be great."  
  
He pulled away as quickly as he moved forward, and smacked a kiss onto Liam's cheek.  
  
"First order of business as my boyfriend," he said, and Liam felt a jolt run through him at the term, "is helping me babysit Emma. They're gonna have to start shooting again soon, and I think she's getting a bit tired of me."  
  
The tour bus was dark, but Liam's eyes had adjusted and he could see more now than ever, could see the sweat at Harry's brow and the places where the product was failing and his hair was starting to wilt, could see the jut of his collarbones sticking out of the stretched neck of his shirt and the dirt on his knees from crouching down in the cornfield. He could see the happy, crinkled corners of Harry's eyes and the glint of his teeth, and he hated every second that he had been too busy being angry at himself for loving Harry to notice that Harry was looking back at him like that.  
  
"I don't know how anyone could get tired of you," he said.  
  
"Plenty of people could," Harry replied, shrugging. He was so lovely, so utterly lovely. He'd make a good dad, Liam thought, and it didn't make him sad this time.  
  
"Not me," he said, and he had never meant anything more.


End file.
